


Beer Bottles and Sand Shards

by brilliantbrioche



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Implied/Referenced Past Self-Harm, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbrioche/pseuds/brilliantbrioche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Amis go on a school trip to Cornwall.<br/>Enjolras has an accent.<br/>Everyone wants Courfeyrac and Courfeyrac wants everyone.<br/>Everything is just really innocent and they fall in love really quick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd - all mistakes are my own.

**_“After sundown, before sleeping, I am the worst of me. I am a mess of these_ **

**_Old themes and the murmur of half-dreams whisper seductively and_ **

**_Stage scenes._ **

**_It’s fear fiction, these visions, caught somewhere between delusion and prophesy._ **

**_What I haven’t done, what I’ve wanted to, and what I fear you have_**

**_Becomes reality here.”_**  

 

“Who are you listening to?” Enjolras turned slightly to face the question and was unimpressed; a small, almost sickly looking boy stared back at him. Dark circles lined his eyes and his whole body seemed to vibrate slightly, as if he hadn’t slept in a long while. He name was Grantaire, he reminded himself. They have English together. 

He shrugged in response and flashed his iPod, giving the boy an answer but not having to endure speech or the possibility of a conversation. 

“Oh cool.” Grantaire smiled. “I think Jehan likes them. He’s always going on about how amazing and deep they are. Like singing poetry, he says.” He smiled again. He seemed a little on edge, Enjolras thought, he talked a lot. Not that Enjolras minded of course, he wasn’t rude, he just didn’t know if he could cope with eight hours of mindless babble. 

“I’m sorry, I know you’re probably not all that happy about this, I mean there were no other seats left and... Uh, I don’t usually talk this much you know? I’m just excited, I mean Cornwall man. I love holidays, even with school. I’m sorry you couldn’t sit with your friends.” Grantaire seemed to breathe this out all at once, words falling out his mouth as he  jumped up and down in his seat. He was so _excited._  

Enjolras shrugged again, smiling slightly. It was fine, he didn’t mind. As long as he was nice and didn’t support UKIP it was good. Grantaire grinned back. The teachers droned on for another five minutes, speaking about what to do in an emergency and other pointless things. Then the coach set off and Enjolras turned to face the window, turning his music up he shut his eyes and tried to sleep. 

*

“Hey, we’ve stopped at a service station” Enjolras felt a soft hand prodding his shoulder slightly. “Yo, you need to wake up if you want to get something to eat or go to the toilet or something.” The prodding got harder and Enjolras groaned, lifting an arm to brush the offending fingers away. He heard a sigh and felt a sudden emptiness at his side. 

What seemed like two seconds later, but was more likely ten minutes, the seat next to him was filled again and a packet of skittles thrown in his lap. “Ruth says we have another five hours left.” Grantaire informed, before quickly being scaled for ‘inappropriately’ using a teachers first name. In his half-asleep haze Enjolras smiled, screw the man; call teachers by their first names. This is a school not a prison. He opened the skittles and began to eat, carefully avoiding the red ones.

Sometime later, he took his earphones out and nudged Grantaire with his elbow.

“Ere’ I don’t rite like the red’ns. You want em?” He asked, holding the almost-empty packet between them.

“Sorry, what?” The other boy spluttered, a grin edging its way onto the corners of his mouth.

“I said, d’ya want the red’ns?” Enjolras repeated, slightly confused.

“Oh my God.” He was giggling now. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk before, you just sit there a marble statue. Completely composed, my god, where are you _from_?” 

“Scuse’ me?” He was incredulous, could he get any more rude?

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Grantaire wheezed. “I just, I really wasn’t expecting you to sound like that. You just looks so, so upper-echelon and you just.” He dissolved into a fit of laughter, almost waking the people sat behind them. 

“Oh.” Was Enjolras’ only reply. He dropped the packet and turned back to the window. He love to debate, to talk and converse but he simply couldn’t. People laughed at him because of it. Moving from Devon to London was hard enough without being mocked for his accent; after being bullied out of one school he simply stopped talking. If they didn’t hear him they couldn’t hurt him. He tried to stop thinking and focused on getting back to sleep, ignoring the boy to his left.

*

“Oh, just look at him!” Courfeyrac squealed. They had finally reached Cornwall and had signed in to the hotel about an hour ago. Enjolras was sharing a room with Courfeyrac and Combeferre. He had managed to avoid talking to Grantaire for the last three hours of the journey, practically jumping out the moving coach as soon as it was announced they had arrived.

“Courfeyrac, where did you get a picture of Mr LeBlanc?” Combeferre’s soft voice ran through the room, calming the almost hysteric murmurs of Courfeyrac, who was now exploiting the said picture. Him rubbing a polaroid against his groin was an image Enjolras hoped to forget soon. 

“He teaches history doesn’t he? Hmmm, history... Quite a lot happened back then didn’t it?” Courfeyrac whispered dreamily, quickly moving on when he heard the appalled gasp of Enjolras, hoping to avoid a lecture on how the past shapes our future and so on. “Age is just a number.” He stated, looking again at the now crumpled photograph. 

“Technically it’s a word”

“Shut up Combeferre.”

“Where didya’ get it though?” Enjolras asked, curious. His accent wasn’t as strong now. He masked it most of the time so it was almost unrecognisable, but it still slipped through occasionally, when he was tired for example. Not that his friends would mind if he spoke naturally in front of them. They accepted him. That and the look in his cold eyes when they laughed that first time was scary enough for them to never bring it up again.

“I stole it from the school database. It was a pain to get it on polaroid but it was worth it.” He smiled, rather insanely from Enjolras’ point of view, down at the face of the forty-something year old man.  

“I don’t think this is healthy Courf-”

“IT’S LOVE!”

Oh God, this was going to be a long week Enjolras thought. Thats if they managed to go the full week before the police came to arrest the teacher Courfeyrac was going to embarrassingly try to seduce. 

“It’s infatuation.”

Courfeyrac threw a pillow at him.

*

Grantaire flopped down on the single bed next to Jehan and groaned.

“Eight hours, eight hours next to that _god_ and I fucked it up.” He began to roll side to side, as if trying to wipe the humiliation off his skin. After the laughing fit Enjolras hadn’t spoken another word to him and as a result Grantaire spend the remained of the journey staring adoringly at the sleeping figure next to him. Jehan, noticing this, had only seen him blink eight times within three hours.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend you weren’t a dick but-” Grantaire moaned. “Enjolras is a very nice person, believe it or not, and if you make an effort I’m sure he’ll forgive you in no time.”

“How do you know he’s a nice person?” Grantaire mumbled looking up, suddenly curious. 

“I go to debate club with him. I’ve asked you to come before but _nooo_ Grantaire doesn’t have time for politics.” Jehan was teasing him now.

_“You could have told me!”_

“I tried but thinking about it now it’s probably for the best you didn’t come, I don’t think I could cope with anymore time watching you fawn over him. But, alas, we have some sort of rock climbing thing tomorrow and guess who’s group you’re in.” Jehan cooed before laughing at Grantaire’s stricken expression.

Great, he’d already managed to insult him and now he was going to have to spend even more time with him. He wanted to crawl up and cry. Preferably with a bottle. _Pathetic_ he scolded himself. He was going to go and apologise and it would be okay, it’s not as if he spends every English lesson with his eyes fixed on the blond, barely getting any notes. It’s just a stupid crush that would only end in pain and humiliation. How could anyone, let alone him, like someone like Grantaire? He was pretty sure Jehan had a tough time being his friend and he was one of the most accepting people he’d ever met.

*

There was a knocking at the door; Combeferre got up to answer it. Courfeyrac got there first though, in the hope it was LeBlanc. It wasn’t.

“Ooooooohhhh, guess who’s boyfriend is at the door.” He sang at Enjolras. Both the boys had been informed on the events of the coach trip. Courfeyrac had found it particularly amusing to say the least. 

“Shut up.” Enjolras spat back. He did not want to see that boy again. Even he had his breaking points and if he was laughed at again he thought he might cry.

He got up, leaving his laptop open on the bed, and moved across the room to open the door. A rather nervous looking Grantaire looked up at the movement.

“Hello.”

Enjolras nodded in reply.

“I just, I um, I just wanted to apologise. Uh, do you want to come out to talk or-”

“Whatever you want to say you can say it here” His tone was sharp and both Courfeyrac and Combeferre moved to try get a better angle so they could see what was going on, Courfeyrac grinning so widely it was a wonder his face didn’t split in half.

Grantaire took a deep breath and tried to calm the sudden quell of panic that had risen in his chest.

“Right, well-” He swallowed. “I wanted to apologise for being so rude on the coach. I want you to understand I wasn’t laughing at you just to be mean or anything I was just really surprised; you don’t look anything like how you sound. And, and I really want to be friends, you always look to good in English and, uh, wait I mean, no.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, somewhat confused about the way this conversation was going. Courfeyrac looked like he was about to faint and even Combeferre was trying not to smile, a small blush forming from the embarrassment of the other boy.

“You always seem to look like a nice person and in truth I am a little intimidated by you. But anyway all I really wanted to do was apologise and I’ve made a bit of a mess of it so I’m sorry. For the coach and for this. Uh, I’m a pretty shitty person so I understand if you don’t want to talk to me.” Grantaire flushed. This had not gone to plan at all. What happened to the calm and collected Grantaire he had rehearsed with Jehan? _I’m pretty sure he ran away when he realised he had to make a speech in front of a god and his two right hand men,_ he told himself irritated. 

Enjolras opened his mouth to speak, looking a bit shell shocked, but was interrupted as Grantaire started to move down the corridor. 

“Yep, well, bye now it was nice to see you.” Grantaire called, managing to make a little wave before running the remainder of the corridor back to his room.

Enjolras closed the door in a state of shock, from both the conversation and the sudden proximity of his own body and that of Courfeyrac’s. He found himself in an intense staring contest with cyan eyes. A beat of a moment passed where Enjolras was honestly concerned he was going to be kissed before Courfeyrac’s lips moved, forming the whisper:

“Gay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics mentioned at the start are from 'The Most Beautiful Bitter Fruit' by La Dispute.


	2. Day 2

Grantaire stared at the mountain in front of him. _They were expected to climb this?_ He glanced over at Enjolras who he had somehow managed to be partnered with after Jehan had already planned to go with Feuilly and Courfeyrac had demanded to be with Combeferre. He wished Eponine’s parents had let her come on the trip, then he could be with her now as well as on the coach. Maybe then the whole insulting-Enjolras-before-he-even-knew-him thing might not have happened. 

He was pretty sure, no he was certain Enjolras was just as happy about this arrangement as he was. He’d seen him talking to Marius for a good five minutes before sulking off to stand next to Grantaire. It was no use; Marius had been put with Cosette and after a year of stalking he wasn’t going to let this opportunity to pass him by. 

Five years of safety warnings later they were finally let loose on the boulder.  Enjolras went first, climbing up with a type of ease that made Grantaire think he had done this before, and set the boundaries of where Grantaire should step and pull himself up. This was all put to waste of course, when Courfeyrac called over to them grinning and demanding a race.

Grantaire had seen them flirting all day; Courfeyrac hitting Comberferre’s arse and getting so close they might as well have been kissing before leaning away and laughing.

“Come on Enjolras, _please?_ Or are you too scared?” Courfeyrac teased, his eyes shining.

Enjolras looked down at him. “Are you up for this? He’s my friend but I swear to god it’s a miracle I an’t killed him yet and we still have the rest of the week. If I win he might shut up for two seconds and get his tongue out of Combeferre’s mouth.”

Grantaire swallowed but nodded. Enjolras was talking to him and hadn’t mention the night before so he figured he could try this for him. Even if he had absolutely no experience in rock climbing and a slight fear of heights. It was okay. He could totally do this. Yeah.

* 

“Okay, the first team to get both of themselves to the top wins.” Combeferre announced. After the brief ‘introduction to climbing’ lesson they had been more or less left to their own devices, with a teacher coming round every 15 minutes to check no one had died. Other than that they could do whatever they wanted.  

Their team was winning when Grantaire fell; loosing his grip on the rock above him just as a gust of wind made him shuffle and move his feet, little to far to the left apparently. He fell about three meters and landed with a hard thud. A scream escaped and he folded in on himself, tying to ease the pain that surrounded his body but especially his left ankle which had scraped along the face of the rock.

“Shit!” Courfeyrac shouted, panicked. All three of them moved down as quickly as possible, Grantaires almost sobs filling their ears. Combeferre was whispering what sounded a lot like ‘fuck’ over and over again under his breath.

When they had reached the bottom Enjolras told them both to get Ruth or LeBlanc or _anyone_ as long as they could help. He leant down:

“Grantaire? Grantaire are you alright?”

Pain was shooting all over his body and when he opened his eyes black dots swarmed over his vision until he couldn’t see anything at all.

“No.” He whispered. “I cant see anything and I think I’m dead.”

He felt himself be moved into the recovery position and, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t in that much pain anymore. In fact he couldn't feel much of anything. 

_Oh well, time for a nice nap._

*

“Where are we?”

“Hospital.”

“Oh.”

*

He _was_ in the hospital. So was Enjolras. In fact Grantaire was pretty sure he was the one he was talking to when he half woke up for a second. They had been blond anyway. 

“Why are you here?” 

“Well it’s nice you see you too.” Came the soft reply. “Because we were partners everyone thought it would be for the best if I came with you to keep you company. The logic they tried to sell me seemed a bit flawed but I don’t really mind.”

“Oh.”

There was a moment of silence. Before it became too much and Enjolras snapped. 

“I’m really sorry. I was going to fast I didn’t even stop to see if you were okay. I was climbing too fast you could have died oh my god I’m so sorry.” Enjolras put his head in his hands. He was starting to like his boy. In the Courfeyrac way, as in it had been two days and he already came twice in the shower, Grantaire’s laugh echoing in his ears. _Fuck this was so not like him._ What was he doing?

He was saved from his irritating monologue when a nurse walked in. She smiled.

“Okay, now you’re awake you can go. One of your teachers is on his way to pick you up. Although I’d be a bit more careful if I were you. I’m going to have to give you a tetanus jab because of the wound on your ankle.” She rattled off information as if she didn’t really care if anyone responded. The was just doing her job; the quicker this was done the sooner she could get off her shift.

_Shit._ Grantaire froze. He could not deal with needles. Especially not in front of Enjolras. He’d embarrassed himself enough as it was. He must have looked scared because Enjolras was looking at him quite intensely.

“Are you alright?” 

“...”

“Grantaire?”

“Get out. Go, just, just get out.”

He paused for a second, looking at Grantaire, trying to gauge if he was being serious and wondering what he’d done wrong. Then he got up and calmly walked out without so much as a second glance. 

* 

He had been sat outside the hospital room for nearly 20 minutes and neither Grantaire or a teacher had appeared. The school was quite lax, he noted. They seemed to care little about the safety of their pupils, he understands that they’re in year 12 and have a level of trust with the teachers but this was ridiculous. 

The door opened and Grantaire strolled out and slumped in the chair opposite. Enjolras didn’t mention how his hands shook or the tears that stained his face. In the minutes he had been waiting he could hear muffled sobs from the room behind him and came to the conclusion that Grantaire had Trypanophobia and, from the sounds of it, was begging the doctor not to inject him. Something similar to pity stirred in Enjolras’ stomach.  

“Is LeBlanc or someone here yet?” Grantaire croaked.

“No, the school seems to have forgotten about us.”

He didn’t get a reply and they sat there in a comfortable silence for another minute or so before Enjolras got up and moved to sit next to the other boy.

“Will’ye sit next to me on’t coach back?” He spoke quickly and his words all merged into one. He could feel his accent coming out again. _Shit,_ why was he so nervous?

“Um, yeah okay. Why are you-?”

Grantaire was interrupted by soft lips being pressed up onto his. Surprised he leaned back, studying Enjolras’ face. He was expressionless, the only thing that told Grantaire the kiss actually happened was the slight panic in his eyes.

Leblanc chose that moment to conveniently walk around the corner of the corridor, smiling for some unknown reason. Enjolras hoped it wasn’t because he’d seen them; embarrassment flushed on his face and he squirmed uncomfortably. 

“Alright boys.” The teacher bellowed, oblivious to the fact he wasn’t at the front of a class room. “You ready to get back to the hotel?”


	3. Day 3

The next day was dull; everyone apart from Grantaire, who had to stay in bed and rest after the events of the day before, had gone on a trip to some National Trust garden. Grantaire hadn’t seen or spoken to Enjolras since the kiss. They’d spent the journey back in silence, apart from the ramblings of LeBlanc who was trying to explain why they’d been abandoned in a hospital, and avoiding eye contact. 

When Jehan returned from the trip he was in tears.

“Who the FUCK does he think he is? Really? WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE EVEN DO THAT?”

“Who are you-”

“COURFEYRAC.” He wailed, collapsing on the bed next to Grantaire. “I told him I liked him and he... He said he liked me too. So I did what any normal human being would do, right? I kissed him and, and he pulled back and said he didn’t want to. Which is totally okay, I mean it’s just me making a fool of myself its not his fault I just, I don’t know.”

“So basically, you’re angry because he doesn’t like you?”

“I’m just sad.” And then. “But he _did_ say he liked me. He looked really upset.”

Grantaire let the moment settle. He didn’t know Courfeyrac very well but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t cheat and it was obvious he had a thing for Combeferre, if the way they acted at rock climbing meant anything. Jehan was fucked. 

“Maybe you should talk to Combeferre.”

“Why?” Jehan asked confused.

“Um, well because of him and Courfeyrac.” Jehan looked faint. “I mean-”

“Oh god, oh god that complete dick.”

*

There was a knocking at the door, once again Combeferre got up to answer it. Once again Courfeyrac beat him to it and opened the door. It was Jehan.

“Why?” He barged in, almost knocking Courfeyrac over. “Why did you let me make such a fool out of myself if you were already going out with him!” He gestured wildly at Combeferre. “Don’t even try deny it you disgust me, how could you!?”

“I, I’m not.” Courfeyrac glanced between the two boys, his eyes glistening with newly found tears. “I’m so sorry. I like you! I like you both, I just, I’m so sorry. I’m so confused. I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I messed things up with both of you I’m so sorry.” He let out a sob. 

_Holy fuck_ , Enjolras looked at his friends in front of him. This was none of his business. Maybe, if he was quite enough he could slip out the room and-

“I just wanted to be normal! I just wanted to like one person but I don’t. You’re both my best friends I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t feel anything like _THIS!_ It’s not fair! I’m so sorry.”

“Courfeyrac.” Combeferre interupted. “Listen this isn’t your fault, you need to understand you can’t help how you feel.”

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU! YOU COMPLETE ARSEHOLE!” Jehan screamed.

_Nope._ He was gone, Enjolras was so gone. He loved them so much but he was gone.

*

Grantaire was sat behind the industrial bin trying to ignore the smell and light his cigarette.  This had possibly been the most stressful holiday he’d every had. So far anyway. It would probably get worse if a teacher found him smoking but he’d tried to make the likelihood of that happening small by hiding behind the building.

What he didn’t expect was Enjolras to appear, speed walking past before turning around and throwing himself onto the ground next to Grantaire.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Why are you smoking that?”

Grantaire looked down and rolled his cigarette between his fingers.

“Are you going to tell?” He was smiling, he couldn't help it even if he was going to get into trouble. Enjolras was so straight edge it was hilarious. 

“No.” 

They sat there for a few minutes, Grantaire finishing his cigarette and trying to ignore the judgmental glare Enjolras had fixed on him. They seemed to have mastered sitting in silence, with words hanging over the both of them, over the past day or so. He finally spoke, stumping his cigarette out on the floor at the same time.

“Do you like me then?” 

“I think so, yes.”

“You think so. Thats nice.” He let out a tired laugh. “I’ve liked you for a long time, you know? I’m as bad as Marius. All I do in English is stare at you. Do you even know what this means? You don’t even know who I am. I’m a dick.” Grantaire pulled a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends.

“I want to know you. I really do and I’m sorry for what happened on the coach. It wasn’t exactly the best way to start things.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He laughed again, this time it was bitter. “God my Dad doesn’t even know I’m gay, he’ll kick me out and here I am talking to you. The boy I like but don’t know.” Tears were forming in the corner of his eyes and he curled up, resting his head on his knees. Enjolras moved with him and placed an arm over his shoulders.

“If your Dad doesn’t accept you then he doesn’t deserve you.” Grantaire let out a sob. “It’s alright, It’s all alright.” They were hugging and Grantaire was crying into his shirt, aware of Enjolras rubbing his back and making comforting sounds under his breath.

Fuck it, they both liked each other. It didn’t matter who asked but suddenly they were kissing again; their lips damp with tears. It was beautiful, Grantaire thought, Enjolras was pressing down on him trying to get more and he was happily obliging, sliding his tongue into his mouth. The holiday has gotten somewhat better in that moment.


	4. Day 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied past self-harming/scarring in this chapter.

“You seem happy today.” Jehan stated. 

“So do you, and there’s no need to sound so surprised.”

“Well you do remember we’re going to the beach today right? And everyone is grouping up so you’ll have to spend time with Enjolras.” He looked at him for a second before a smile lightened his face. “Something happened didn’t it?”

“Erm.” Grantaire laughed, albeit a little nervously.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

* 

“Someone got something last night didn’t they? Eyy?” 

Enjolras looked at his friend, who had been cooing at his all morning in various stated of undress; modesty not being his biggest forte. Sometime soon Courfeyrac was going to find himself lying in a ditch and at this rate it would be Enjolras who had put him there.

“I got a kiss that’s all. I swear to god if you tell anyone-“

“A KISS?! WITH WHO? WAS IT GRANTAIRE I BET IT WAS GRANTAIRE. It better had been with Grantaire.” He added the last bit in an almost dangerous tone. 

“Was it with Grantaire?” Combeferre added, a lot calmer than his other friend.

“Maybe, I mean, oh yes all right for god sake yes it was. It was with Grantaire.”

They both looked smug. Enjolras had a sudden urge to hit them with something.

“What happened with you two and Jehan anyway? Is everything alright?”

“Yes everything is fine now, don't worry."

Courfeyrac jumped on the bed and rolled about until settling into a very ‘paint me like one of your French women’ pose. “We are all, how do you say,” He rolled again to he was spooning around Combeferre, who was still sitting on the edge of the bed with a slightly humoured expression. “-Lovers.”

* 

Grantaire was sat on the beach with Enjolras by his side. He couldn’t go in the water because of the wound on his ankle and Enjolras never liked swimming all that much anyway. They were quite happy to watch their friends and enjoy each others company. The scene unfolding in front of them was one to revel at:

Courfeyrac appeared behind Jehan and Combeferre, who had just completed a sandcastle together. He was holding an ice cream.

An ice cream which was suddenly all over Jehan’s freckled face. A high pitched scream was let out as Courfeyrac ran away.

“I AM GOING TO GET YOU I SWEAR! AND, NUNJ, NO STOP IT COMBEFERRE!” Jehan laughed and tried to push the other boy away as he licked his face. “GET AWAY FROM ME YOU FILTHY ANIMAL AHH!” They collapsed into a giggling heap. 

“You can’t just do that and not let me have any fun!”

“Oh shut up Courfeyrac and come for a cuddle. I’m still angry at you.”

Combeferre laughed. “Yes, I’d be careful swimming. Our little _friend_ here might try to drown you.”

Courfeyrac joined them and they stayed in that laughing heap for another few minutes before getting up and making their way to the sea shore. 

Grantaire turned away and brought his gaze to Enjolars’ face. His eyes followed the line of his jaw to the plump roundness of his lips. Enjolras’ eyes flicked to his and he smiled.

“I don’t know what happened exactly last night in that hotel room but they seem happy.”

* 

It was later on, when the sun was beginning to set and the tide come in that Enjolras turned to look at him again.

“Why are you wearing so much clothing? Didn’t you want to wear shorts like the rest of us?”

Grantaire looked down at his scrawny body. He was covered almost completely with a long sleeved top and 3/4 length skinny jeans. No one could see his body; he was more than embarrassed by it. He never had enough muscle or weighed enough. He knew he was a disappointment to his Father, he wished he had filled out just a little more and perhaps grown a few more inches then his measly 5'4". The scars as well. He couldn’t let anyone see the scars.

“Not everybody has a body like yours Enjolras.” He laughed, trying to play it off as a joke.

They sat there again in silence.

“We should go back and get something to eat. The tide is going to be in soon.” 

“Do you really like me?” 

“Grantaire-“

“No, I understand we hardly know each other but, well, I’ve known I liked you for a long time. I just, I just want to know because I have a lot of shit Enjolras and if this works out then you’re gonna have to know what some of it is.”

“I like you a lot Grantaire, I really do but you’re not the only one with problems you know. They can’t be that bad, I mean we’re only young.”

“Oh yeah, because you really know. As far as I’m aware you have an iddlic little life.”

“Yes well you don’t know everything! Just shut up Grantaire!”

“ _Oh sorry.”_ Grantaire shot back, picking himself up off the sand. “I didn't mean to hit a nerve.” He walked off, leaving Enjolras sat wondering what exactly it was that just happened. 


	5. Day 5

Enjolras looked out of the window onto the rainswept car park; considering the expense of the trip the hotel was really shit.

“It is Cornwall, it’s practically guarantied to rain on at least one day.” Combeferre said, leaning against the wall on the other side of the window.

“I fucked up.”

“With Grantaire?”

Enjolras let out a sad ‘umph’ in agreement and tried to ignore Courfeyrac’s cries of “ARE YOU SERIOUS ALREADY?” and the force of a pillow hitting the back of his head.

*

Grantaire was awoken by an annoying little strawberry-blond jumping on his bed.

“Get up, get up we’re going bowling today!”

Grantaire calmly flipped him the bird before dragging himself off the bed and into the shared bathroom.

“You know I think I preferred it when you were all sulky about the two C’s.”

“Sure, you go take your nice cold shower now. I’m sure you’ll be happy to note I organised it so we all group together, you dirty lovebirds.” Jehan winked.

_Lovebirds,_ right sure, Grantaire thought giving a small snort. It will all be forgotten soon, hopefully anyway. It was just a little fight.

* 

It was still raining, you could hear it hitting the roof of the bowling ally. Enjolras had always loved that sound. Grantaire, however, had been staring at the patterns on the rug for at least 10 minutes before someone cautiously sat next to him.

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday, I- well I understand you have a lot going on in your life and from the sounds of it not a lot is great but well,” Enjolras cleared his throat, “Not everything is rainbows and sunshine in mine either and I never meant to be unkind and-“

“It’s alright, I’m sorry too. Do, um, do you still want to?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Grantaire smiled as the blond boy’s lips met his, reaching over he took his hand and squeezed.

“You know I like you a lot but if we don’t shut up and join the game I think Jehan might throw up.”

* 

It was Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Jehan vs. Enjolras and Grantaire. Three games later and a small tantrum thrown by Courfeyrac it was announced that the team of two had won with the grand score of 274 to 98.

“I’m going to the arcade and I NEVER WANT TO SPEAK TO EITHER OF YOU EVER AGAIN!” Courfeyrac screamed before storming off in the wrong direction, quickly followed by Combeferre and Jehan who guided him, laughing, over to the bar.

“Another game, just us?” Grantaire looked at him, grinning and typing their names into the computer before he had chance to reply. Enjolras moved so he was behind him and slung his arms around the other boys waist, nuzzling into the warmth of his neck.

“Only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”

“Okay.”

They played the game in a way that could only be described as irritatingly adorable, stopping every so often to touch each other in one way or another; Enjolras picking up the balls and trying to squash them on Grantaires fingers and laughing when they got stuck, Grantaire hiding Enjolras’ drink when he wasn't looking and attempting to change the score on the machine before pretending to sulk every time Enjolras gained more points than him, refusing to talk unless he received another kiss.

In a trick of fate that involved three consecutive strikes Grantaire won and was rewarded with a pout and a soft pinch on the bum.

“I don’t care what ‘append you cheated.” Enjolras grumbled, giving his a playful shove before pouting again.

Grantaire laughed, “Okay whatever you say. Do you want to get a drink? Although I wouldn't be surprised if you’d already had one you affectionate mope.” 

“Yeah sure,” Enjolras frowned, “And no to the second, thanks.”

* 

They weren't allowed to buy alcohol, Grantaire realised, disappointment welling inside him as the bartender shook his head stating how one of the teachers - probably Ruth that boring twit - had informed him not to serve anyone from the school. Carrying their glasses of pop they made their way to the arcade in the hopes of meeting back up with the rest of the group. 

“Look at them.” Enjolras whispered a smile in his voice.

Grantaire looked and was unable to keep the smile off his face. They were there, all three of them crowded around a grabbing machine, starting intensely as Combeferre tried to pick up a stuffed toy. Something hit the bottom and suddenly Courfeyrac was screaming, jumping up and down as he threw himself on the two boys, who were celebrating just as merrily; Jehan reaching in the machine to retrieve the toy before squealing and holding it to his chest, reaching up on his tip-toes to kiss Combeferre, who was laughing open mouthed and has wrapped an arm across the smaller boys shoulder.

Snorting Grantaire reached for the blond boys hand, who wrapped their fingers together and smiled looking down at him.

“Dorks.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it has been a month since I last updated. Sorry!


	6. Day 6

Grantaire had the window seat this time, an open packet of skittles sat between them and Enjolras’ sleeping head resting on his shoulder. 6 hours to go. He felt the other boy move and looked down to a curtain of soft blond hair covering the blue eyes that stared into his own.   

“Who’re ye listening to?” He asked groggily. 

A coy smile wrapped around his lips as he passed an earphone to Enjolras before kissing the top of his head. A week ago he’d been shaking in his seat and now his body was warm and his mind content. Nothing could ruin what a wonderful trip this had been. Not even Ruth who gave them both a disapproving glance when she saw them cuddling at the service station. It turned out she and LeBlanc were engaged. It was a bittersweet moment when Courfeyrac found out - his anguished cries quickly silenced by a solid jab on the leg from Jehan and a wink from Combeferre. 

“Enjolras, you do realise my Dad is the local MP and he wants to ban gay marriage?”

“Fuck off.”

A few minutes later Jehan looked over and smiled at his two sleeping friends; their hands entwined and red skittles spilt onto the floor. 

 

**“ _Oh and you said we go where nobody knows, with guns hidden under our petticoats._**

**_No we're never gonna quit it, no we're never gonna quit it no._ **

**_Yeah we're dressed in black, from head to toe, we've got guns hidden under our petticoats._ **

**_We're never gonna quit it, no we're never gonna quit it no.”_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics mentioned at the end are from 'Chocolate' by The 1975.

**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics mentioned at the start are from 'The Most Beautiful Bitter Fruit' by La Dispute.


End file.
